


More Than one Way (To Ruin a Man)

by TenMoreSins



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Coercion, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Face-Fucking, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Peter Parker Has a Crush, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Power Imbalance, Quentin Beck Being a Jerk, Quentin Beck Does Not, with a belt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenMoreSins/pseuds/TenMoreSins
Summary: CRASH.The entire lab went deathly silent, his coworkers all afraid to move, and all he could hear was the blood rushing in his skull at a tempo rapidly approaching total panic. He thought his heart might be about to beat right out of his chest until the frantic, staccato rhythm nearly ground to a perfect halt at the voice that cut through the silence in a way he imagined it would under far better circumstances, with likely far more enjoyable results that absolutely did not involve him being fired for being an incompetent klutz a week after he’d graduated the internship program.“Parker. My office.Now.”Well. Maybe Mr. Beck would kill him first, and then fire his corpse.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 128
Collections: Spiderio 18+ Exchange April 2020





	More Than one Way (To Ruin a Man)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fyreyantics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyreyantics/gifts).



> Yes hello this is a fic for the Spiderio exchange organized by crookedneighbor for fyreyantics! I hope you like it, I didn't manage to get the knife play in there, but I think I hit all the other notes for you!
> 
> This is marked as dubcon, because technically Peter wants it (or most of it), but he also very clearly doesn't have an actual choice. If this is not okay with you DO NOT READ IT.

Oh God.

He was going to die.

All he could do was watch as time seemed to slow to a crawl, everything narrowing down in crystal clarity on the multi-million dollar component in freefall just far enough from his reaching fingers to be unsavable. The horror registered sharp and cold and heavy in the pit of his stomach, honey brown eyes wide and throat seizing on a pained whine as the blood drained from his face, life flashing before his eyes, and then-

_CRASH._

The entire lab went deathly silent, his coworkers all afraid to move, and all he could hear was the blood rushing in his skull at a tempo rapidly approaching total panic. He thought his heart might be about to beat right out of his chest until the frantic, staccato rhythm nearly ground to a perfect halt at the voice that cut through the silence in a way he imagined it would under far better circumstances, with likely far more enjoyable results that absolutely did not involve him being fired for being an incompetent klutz a week after he’d graduated the internship program.

“Parker. My office. _Now_.”

Well. Maybe Mr. Beck would kill him first, and then fire his corpse.

Nobody made a sound as he set that debate aside and left the shattered component on the floor to make his way hurriedly out of the lab after the sharp echo of authoritative footsteps in smartly polished dress shoes. Shame and humiliation kept his head down as they burned like a brand up the back of his neck, and no words were exchanged between them as he followed like a kicked puppy to Mr. Beck’s office.

Realistically, Peter probably shouldn’t be fixating on the way the man’s slacks were fitted to his thighs and butt, but (hah) at the very least he could get a nice view before he died. Right?

He imagined a dozen scenarios or more on the way there, and yet nothing could have really prepared him for when the office door clicked shut behind him and Mr. Beck was rounding on him, caging him against the wood. His breath caught in his throat when he met the steely blue gaze pinning him where he stood, and no words would form. That gaze was stormy, furious even, and Peter felt beyond cowed, trying his best to shrink against the door as much as he could, which only made something _gleam_ in those eyes.

“You do know that component was worth more than your entire career, Parker,” Beck began, close enough that in any other circumstance the hot breath wafting across Peter’s face would’ve had him hard in seconds. At least right now he was only _half_ hard. “It might be nothing to Stark, but this is _my_ department, the numbers reflect on _me_ , I could _ruin you_ ,” the man hissed out, and God help him, Peter _whimpered_.

Okay, maybe he was more than half hard, and how messed up was that? Shame coiled tight in his gut, twisting together with arousal as he opened his mouth to- to _what_? Apologize? Beg to keep his job? With the way Mr. Beck was looking at him Peter knew there was no point, nothing he could say, the sharp _tsk_ from the man making his jaw click shut again, lip trembling.

“But- _Look at me when I’m talking to you, Parker,_ ” Beck snapped, tone sending a dizzying jolt of fear and heat right down Peter’s spine. His eyes flicked back up so quickly he thought he might swoon, tears pricking at their corners and heart pounding for too many conflicting reasons, the whole of him burning up beneath that icy gaze. “But I won’t,” the man continued, and just as swiftly as he’d crowded Peter against the door, he was turning away with an easy air of casual authority, the outward fury gone in an instant.

“Do you know what that means?” came the question before Peter could so much as squeak out an _excuse me sir what_ , knees weak and the solid wood of the door suddenly feeling like the only thing holding him up as he tried to wrap his brain around whatever was happening right now. He couldn’t even shake his head, gawking in confusion when Mr. Beck turned back to face him again, standing next to his sleek, glass top desk. “I expect an answer when I ask you a question, Parker, or did you leave that brain of yours on the floor of the lab, too?”

“N-no, Mr. Beck, sir, I-” he stammered, cut off by his boss raising a finger sharply, clearly unimpressed. It was as Beck was starting to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt to roll up his sleeves that Peter seemed to find just a moment of courage, bolstered by desperation. Pushing off of the door, he stepped forward quickly, squaring his shoulders and straightening his back as he opened his mouth to argue his case.

It happened too fast for him to register, hands pressed to the cool glass of Mr. Beck’s desk and cheek pressed between them, held there by a painful grip in his hair. “ _What-_ ” was all he managed to get out before the man’s lips were at his ear, the scrape of his stubble harsh against sensitive skin.

“It means that you’re _mine_.”

For a moment, the words just bounced around in Peter’s head, as if he couldn’t grasp the implications of such a statement. His dick seemed to get the message first, however, when Beck’s other hand shamelessly slid over his hip to cup his groin, large palm rubbing slowly against his very obvious erection. Something must have short circuited then, because Peter heard himself actually _moan_ , hips rocking into the grip without his approval while fear and lust warred in his stomach.

He was definitely dead, he had to be.

“You’re _mine_ , Parker, just like I know you wanted. You dropped that component just for this, didn’t you? A multi-million dollar mistake just so I would punish you. _Filthy little slut_ , always stealing glances when you think I won’t notice, how stupid do you think I am?” Beck growled against his ear, palming his clothed dick more firmly in a way that left Peter trying and failing to deny it, barely able to even string two words together other than _no, that’s not- I didn’t- sir please-_ as his unsteady breaths fogged the glass. It was like a scene straight out of one of his wet dreams, because it was true that he’d been crushing and crushing _hard_ on his boss, but at the same time this was so, _so wrong_.

It was _blackmail_.

It was fucking blackmail and Peter had never been harder in his life. God, he _was_ a slut, wasn’t he? Young and stupid and seriously about to come in his pants because Mr. Beck was still talking and his eyes were blurring with unshed tears because even if he only registered half the words it was still the hottest thing he’d ever experienced and that was _wrong_. It was wrong that when the man pulled back and released him he let out a mewling sob in protest, hips bucking against empty air because he’d been so _close_.

“Did you think it would be that easy, precious? Don’t forget, this is a _punishment_. Now get those clumsy hands behind your back before you break something else.”

Head swimming, Peter moved too slowly, pushing himself a little more upright only to be driven back down against the desk, arms wrenched behind his back. Again, Mr. Beck _tsk_ ed him, callous in the way his arms were maneuvered, one large hand dwarfing his small wrists in its grip while Peter tried to catch his breath, teeth grit against the pain. It did little to deter his arousal, though, especially once he felt the slide of silk between the man’s fingers, a shiver running down his spine as Beck’s hand was replaced by what was clearly his tie.

“ _Better_ ,” followed as Peter tugged at the restraint, heart thudding in his chest as he really started to actually process what was happening here, eyes wide as he tried to twist to look over his shoulder.

“Mr. Beck- _ah!_ ” he yelped as he was tugged suddenly upright by the hair, stumbling and off balance with his arms behind his back. He couldn’t steady himself, head whipping around to shoot a pleading look toward the man who simply stepped out of the way as he tripped, pain exploding in his shoulder as it hit the floor hard. Still, Peter refused to cry, though he could taste blood as he turned watery eyes upward, taking in the almost coldly disinterested expression on Beck’s face. The black of his pupils starting to eclipse the blue and the hard outline of a sizable cock in his slacks were the only things that gave his boss away, but it was enough to have him whimpering and struggling to sit up, wanting despite how fucked up this was.

“Now you’re getting it, aren’t you, sweetheart,” Beck purred, that barest hint of approval making Peter’s cock jump and his throat go dry as the man circled around him in order to slide his chair over, casually taking a seat in front of him, thighs spread. “Going to be a good little cockslut for me?” It wasn’t really a question, but Peter only hesitated a moment before nodding, cheeks burning and pupils blown wide as he got up onto his knees and scooted himself forward between Beck’s knees.

He shouldn’t like this, it was coercion at best, rape at worst, but the look on Beck’s face when he leaned forward to nuzzle the hard line of the man’s cock through his slacks was so much better than he’d ever imagined. His boss was a predator, but he’d walked right into this, mouth watering around the words _yes sir_ as Mr. Beck slipped his belt out of its loops and set it aside on the desk. Peter was the perfect prey here, breath already picking up again as his eyes followed the way the man palmed his own erection before releasing it from its confines.

Dear _God_.

Just because Peter didn’t have a choice didn’t mean he wasn’t going to enjoy every goddamn second of this, wasting no time in drawing his tongue up the underside of what was arguably the most breathtaking cock he’d ever seen. Hearing the hitch in the man’s breath, he peered up, eyes wide as he swirled his tongue around the tip, flicked it across the slit, and swallowed the first few inches in one go.

“ _Christ_ , Parker,” Beck groaned out, fingers tangling into Peter’s curls again as he slid a little further down in his chair. “Would’ve found an excuse to get you in here sooner if I’d known what a perfect little cocksucker you’d be for me, _fuck_. Knew you’d look good with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock the first time you walked through the door to my lab,” he continued, grip tightening. It was the only warning Peter got before he was being tugged forward, off balance and forced to choke on the man’s cock as it hit the back of his throat. Now, the tears sprung to his eyes, leaking down his cheeks as he gagged and struggled to relax enough to let his boss fuck his face, drool running down his chin.

By the time Beck yanked him back with a curse, he was gasping for breath, lips swollen and bruised, cheeks blotchy and eyes red rimmed. “Shit, look at you,” the man groaned, tugging harder on Peter’s hair. “Get up. _Up_. Face the desk,” he ordered, giving one more tug for emphasis before his patience waned and a bruising grip clamped down on Peter’s bicep to drag him up to his feet.

“Mr. Beck-” 

“You speak when spoken to, slut,” was quick to cut off Peter’s rasping, wrecked voice as he was spun around, nearly losing his footing again as Beck’s strong hand bent him over the desk, hips pressed into the glass edge hard enough to make him let out a hiss of pain. The slap to his clothed rear made him jolt in surprise, gasping as he flexed his fingers at the way the desk dug harder into his hips. He choked out another _yes sir_ as he rested his heated cheek against the cool glass, knowing better than to try and twist to get a better view of what the man was doing behind him.

The interesting thing about a glass top desk, however, was that if he turned his head just enough, he could see the way Mr. Beck’s hands slid over his hips to undo his pants as much as he could feel it. He felt like he was on fire, the heat of the man’s body behind him radiating with his own even as the cool air of the room hit his suddenly bare ass and flushed cock when his pants and underwear were unceremoniously yanked down to expose him. Biting back a curse, Peter clenched his eyes shut, trying fruitlessly to school his breathing as he felt calloused hands knead at his flesh, heard the man swear under his breath.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous, Parker, anybody else fucked this perfect ass yet or is it just as much mine as the rest of you?” Beck rumbled, thumb pressing between Peter’s cheeks teasingly, fingers splayed over his lower back under the edge of his shirt. He couldn’t help but squirm, but the press of the man’s hips and the spit slick slide of that amazing cock between his thighs made him still with a shiver.

“J-just a couple times s-sir in- in c-college-” he managed, breath fogging up the glass and obscuring his view of the way Beck’s cockhead looked pushing between his legs. “It- he wasn’t very good though,” came the hurried admission, and Peter licked his lips, the unspoken part of that confession hot and heavy in the air between them.

_Not as good as you will be, sir, I know it._

The way his boss hummed felt like it reverberated through his own chest, and the sudden lack of a body behind him almost had him crying out. It almost had him missing the slide of Beck’s belt against the glass as he retrieved it, but he definitely didn’t miss the way the strip of leather tapped against his ass like a sinister promise. “First your punishment, and then I’ll show you the difference between a college boy and a _man_ , how about that, sweetheart?”

Again, it wasn’t a real question, but now Peter was kind of terrified. He knew perfectly well what was about to happen next, but nothing prepared him for the harsh _count_ Mr. Beck hissed out right before the crack of the belt. Nothing _could_ prepare him for the sharp, stinging pain that blossomed where the leather landed in a stripe across his right cheek, the cry that tore itself from his throat, or the tears that stung his eyes anew. “Count or you’ll get more, Parker,” had him croaking out a broken sounding _one_ , his entire body trembling from the adrenaline pumping alongside his unrelenting arousal.

“Good boy,” Beck murmured, and it almost made it better until the belt came down again, on the opposite cheek this time. He cried out a ragged _two sir_ , tears making his cheek slip against the desk as his traitorous cock wept with him while he shook. God but it hurt, and by the time he hit five Peter was a complete wreck, sobbing openly and begging for it to be done, barely coherent enough to do much more than shudder at the hot breath on his ear, the nonsense being murmured and fingers combing through his hair. It was nice, though, even if his legs were shaking so bad he could barely hold himself up, chest heaving with every hiccupped sob.

“P-please please Mr. Beck ‘m sorry ‘m so sorry ‘ll be more c-careful p-please-” he choked out, shushed by a finger against his lips and the scrape of teeth against his ear. How he was still hard after all that, he had no idea, but when Beck’s fingers wrapped around his cock he nearly came on the spot, bucking into the grip.

“Oh I know you will, baby, cause I went easy on you this time, and I think you know how much worse it can get,” Beck almost cooed while he just kept petting Peter’s hair, rubbing between his tense shoulder blades as the sobs died down, touch and tone deceptively gentle compared to everything else so far and not at all matching up with the words themselves. “Now you’re gonna take my fat cock in that pretty little red ass of yours, gonna come on it and take my load when I make you mine. _And_ you’re gonna thank me for it like the slut you are, isn’t that right?”

His muffled response clearly wasn’t enough, because the soothing fingers in his hair suddenly gripped tight, angling his head back painfully.

“What was that, Parker? _I couldn’t hear you._ ”

“Yes sir!” Peter cried out, breathless, “Please, p-please let me- please fuck me, sir so I can come on your cock _please_!” 

It seemed to do the trick, because he could hear the damn near feral growl Mr. Beck let out behind him, heard the snap of a bottle, and then there were two fingers pushing impatiently at his hole. “Gonna ruin you, sweetheart, you won’t even be able to _look_ at another cock,” the man hissed against him, fingers just a little too rough, a little too fast, but nothing if not skilled in finding the spot that made Peter gasp and writhe. Hell, it nearly made him come with how mercilessly Beck assaulted his prostate, and he was just happy to be able to catch his breath when those fingers were pulled out.

And then there was the slick press of Beck’s cock spearing him open and Peter couldn’t breathe _at all_ , ears ringing as he gripped at the front of the man’s shirt where it brushed against his fingers. He felt the weight of Beck’s larger body settle over him as he bottomed out, whimpering at the pressure and the burn of not just the stretch but the man’s hips against his bruised ass. The breath against his neck was almost feverishly hot, and he could feel the distinct scrape of stubble, the drag of teeth against his pulse making him moan.

“ _Fuck_ , such a good little cocksleeve you are, honey, take me so well, earn my load now, slut,” Beck groaned against Peter’s neck, and it was gloves off as he set right into a brutal, quick pace, clearly chasing his own pleasure. The sounds the man made were few, but those grunts, moans, and heavy breaths were going to be the soundtrack of Peter’s fantasies forever now, coupled with the way he himself couldn’t keep quiet to save his life. 

It hurt, but God it was so _good_ , everything he imagined and more, he could almost forget it was just blackmail. At least this way Mr. Beck wouldn’t fire him. At least this way the man _wanted him_. The pitch of his moans only escalated as he got closer, Beck’s fingers digging bruises into his hips both to hold him up and get that extra bit of leverage to pound into Peter’s abused hole that much harder. Every thrust sent another shock of pain through the welts on his ass, leaving him a babbling, pleading mess as he writhed against the desk, so close to the edge it was blurring the lines between the hurt and the ecstasy.

When the rhythm started to become erratic, Beck’s ragged voice was a godsend in Peter’s ear, as demanding as the hand that snaked around to jerk his aching cock with purpose. Really, a few pumps was all it took, alongside the growl of _that’s it, come on my cock like a good slut_ , and he all but screamed as his release ripped the breath from his lungs, come splattering the underside of the glass surface and dripping thickly to the floor.

“What do you say, sweetheart,” hot against his neck was a reminder that barely sank in as Beck continued to drive into him, scrambling his brains as readily as his insides, but Peter found his voice, a litany of broken _thank you_ s and _please_ s. “Good boy... _Good. Fucking. Slut,_ ” the man grunted, punctuating each of the words with his final, punishing thrusts before burying himself deep and filling Peter’s fucked out ass with his spill as promised.

For several, long moments there was only the sound of harsh breathing, the heavy pounding of Peter’s pulse in his ears, and if he closed his eyes he could sort of pretend he wasn’t just being used, that the weight of his boss against his back was actually comforting. But he couldn’t live in that illusion forever, not when Beck was pushing back, pulling out, leaving his gaping hole to drip down his thighs, shameful. He didn’t dare move when his wrists were freed, other than to bring his hands to the edge of the desk as his arms tried to flop like noodles. He didn’t dare move as he listened with his eyes clenched shut against the tears to the way Mr. Beck straightened his slacks and threaded his belt back through the loops, footsteps surprisingly steady as they tracked toward the door.

“Clean up this mess, Parker,” Beck’s tone hit him like a bucket of ice water, cold, professional, _dismissive_. As if none of that had just happened at all, and he couldn’t bring himself to look, knowing the man would look put together as he had when they’d gotten here.

“And get back to work.”

To his credit, Peter managed to wait until the sound of the door clicking shut signaled the man’s departure before he collapsed to the floor and let himself cry again.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on Discord! I'm part of a [Spiderio server](https://discord.gg/FumvCxwsKy) (but other ships are also welcome)! I like sharing sneak peaks sometimes.


End file.
